


The Big Little Women's Book

by LinearA



Category: Little Women Series - Louisa May Alcott
Genre: Not really fanfic in the traditional sense, Stage Play Format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 22:20:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19282333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LinearA/pseuds/LinearA
Summary: I've seen too many stodgy stage adaptations of 19th-Century novels so I thought I'd do something a little quicker-paced. With a less naturalistic style. And maybe a touch more drastic.Anyway, have you re-read Little Women recently?Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents.





	The Big Little Women's Book

**Author's Note:**

> Turns out, the stage directions look terrible no matter what I do. I’m sorry.

 

 
    
    
    Characters
        JO
        MEG
        AMY
        BETH
        LAURIE
        MARMEE
        MR. BROOKE
    
                                   _The March Sisters at home: Meg sewing and
                                   Amy knitting and Jo stretched out in front of the
                                   fire not kitting and Beth in her corner very quiet
                                   and very still._
    
                                 JO
        Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents!
    
                                 MEG
        It's so dreadful to be poor!
    
                                 AMY
        I don't think it's fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty things, and others nothing at all.
    
    _All of them turn to Beth's corner.  No sound._
                                 JO
        We haven't got Father.  He's far away, where the fighting is.  If I were a boy, I'd go and fight with Father!  But I can only stay home, like a pokey old Woman.
    
                                 MEG
        This is a Women's Book, Jo.  It's about Women's Work and Women's Worlds, and it calls itself Little but it's close to 600 pages in paperback, so draw your own conclusions.
    
                                 JO
        I want to be Shakespeare.  I want to be a genius.  I want to be a boy.  I don't want to live in the world of gloves and poplins and sewing and knitting and making things people can feel and hold and touch and use every day until they wear out.  I shall stand in front of the fire and my genius burns and I don't care if my dress burns too, because who likes dresses?
    
                                 MEG
        Me.
    
                                 AMY
        Me.
    
                                 MEG
        Does Beth like dresses?
    
                                 JO
        Yes.  No.  Yes.  I don't know.  Beth?
    
    _Pause._
                                 BETH
        It doesn't matter.
    
    _Beth goes out, and then Amy leaves too._
                                 MEG
        Your dress is all burnt, Jo, and your gloves are ruined, but we shall have to go to the party all the same.
    
    _Marmee calls from offstage:_
                                 MARMEE
        DO YOU HAVE CLEAN HANDKERCHIEFS YOU CAN'T GO IF YOU DON'T HAVE CLEAN HANDKERCHIEFS
    
                                 MEG
        Yes Marmee!
    
                                 MARMEE
        PEOPLE MIGHT THINK YOU'RE SLUTS IF YOUR HANDKERCHIEFS WERE DIRTY
    
                                 MEG
        We have clean handkerchiefs, Marmee!
    
                                 JO
        Christopher Columbus!
    
                                 MEG
        Oh, don't!
    
                                 JO
        Oh, I never know the proper thing to do.  This is a book about doing the wrong thing and then learning your lesson and then doing the wrong thing again and learning your lesson and then doing
    
                                 MEG
        Oh, look!  My rich friends!
    
                                 JO
        Go dance, Meg!
    
    _Meg goes out, and Jo falls back and runs into
                                   Laurie._
        Christopher Columbus!
    
                                 LAURIE
        You seem like fun!
    
                                 JO
        You live next door, don't you?  We watch you sometimes and pretend we know you!
    
                                 LAURIE
        I watch you sometimes and pretend I know you!
    
                                 JO
        I'm Jo!
    
                                 LAURIE
        I'm Laurie!
    
                                 JO
        I'm going to call you Teddy!
    
                                 LAURIE
        I'm going to make you responsible for my morals!
    
                                 JO
        Shake on it, there's a good fellow!
    _They shake.  Meg comes back in too-high-heels,
                                   heavy makeup, and a too-tight dress, crying. 
                                   Laurie laughs at her._
    
                                 MEG
        I thought I could be perfect and then everyone would love me so I tried to be perfect but I couldn't do it and now the men are laughing at me.
    
    _Jo laughs at her._
                                 JO
        Well, you look so stupid!  Don't your feet hurt?
    
                                 MEG
        My feet always hurt.
    _Jo scrubs the makeup off her with a
                                   handkerchief._
    
                                 JO
        Well, that's what you get for not being simple and plain and naturally beautiful.
    
                                 LAURIE
        I really think you're prettier without makeup.
    
                                 MEG
        I'll try harder next time.  I won't be so vain.  I won't let you see how badly I want to be good at what I do.
    
                                 LAURIE
        Which is be beautiful.
    
                                 MEG
        Yes.  I mean no.  Because I can't be vain.  I have to try to be beautiful but not look like I'm trying too hard and not say anything about being beautiful and just hope hope hope so hard that people will tell me I'm beautiful so I know I've done it right.
    
                                 JO
        You're beautiful.  I'm not beautiful.  I'm a tomboy!  I don't want to be beautiful.  So I'm not jealous.
    
                                 MEG
        Well, I think your hair is beautiful.
    
                                 LAURIE
        That's true.
    
                                 MEG
        Your one beauty!
    
                                 JO
        Christopher Columbus!
    
                                  _She runs out, and Laurie runs after her.  Beth
                                   comes out and helps Meg change.  Amy comes
                                   out with a clothespin on her nose._
    
                                 MEG
        You know that makes you snore and also doesn't do anything.
    
                                 AMY
        I hate my nose.  It's flat.
    
                                 MEG
        It's fine.
    
                                 AMY
        I hate it.  If my nose is wrong I can't be beautiful.  I want to be beautiful and I want to be an adult and I want to go to Europe and I want to be an artist and have an elegant, beautiful life.
    
                                 MEG
        What a stuck up little goose you are, Amy. 
    
                                 BETH
        If Jo is a tomboy and Amy is a goose.  What am I?
    
    _Awkward pause.  Laurie comes back._
                                 LAURIE
        Hello girls!  Jo told me you were putting on a theatrical entertainment she'd written, where Meg was the maiden and Amy was the villain and Jo was in drag a whole lot.
    
    _Marmee comes on._
                                 MARMEE
        Do you really think that's appropriate, girls?  
    
    _Jo runs back on with a hat on._
                                 JO
        Father's sick in Washington DC and he might die!
    
                                 _Marmee faints; Laurie catches her.  Jo takes off
                                   her hat to show her short hair._
    
        So I cut off my hair and sold it for money so you could go take care of him.
    
                                 MEG
        Oh Jo!  Your one beauty!
    
                                 LAURIE
        I'll get my tutor Mr. Brooke and we'll take your mother to Washington right away!
    
    _He and Marmee leave._
                                 AMY
        That was so brave of you, Jo.  Cutting your hair.
    
                                 MEG
        I could never do that.
    
                                 AMY
        We're not as brave as you.
    
                                 JO
        I'm a tomboy.  I wanted short hair anyway.
    
                                 MEG
        Of course.  But it was your one beauty.
    
                                 AMY
        It was the only thing you had to be proud of.
    
                                 JO
        I still write.
    
                                 AMY
        Nobody looks at writers.
    
                                 JO
        Don't care.
    
                                 MEG
        No one will look at you now.
    
                                 AMY
        Not even a little.
    
    _Jo begins to cry._
                                 MEG
        What's the matter, Jo?
    
                                 JO
        I – I liked having a beauty.  I mean, I didn't, because if you have a beauty men look at you like you're not a man and that's horrid so I was glad to cut it off but I liked having something about me that was beautiful that I could look at.
    
    _Meg hugs her._
                                 MEG
        Oh Jo.  Oh Jo.
    
                                 AMY
        It will grow back.
    
                                 MEG
        It will.
    
                                 JO
        And I think Mr. Brooke is looking at you too much.
    
                                 MEG
        Mr. Brooke seems nice.
    
                                 JO
        Mr. Brooke is THIRTY and you are SIXTEEN and so I really don't CARE how earnest and estimable his brown eyes are.
    
    _Mr. Brooke comes on._
                                 MR. BROOKE
        Meg –
    
                                 JO
        YOU CAN'T HAVE HER this is a book about rebellion and doing the things you're not supposed to; I WILL MARRY HER MYSELF.
    
                                 MEG
        Isn't she adorable?  Thank you so much for helping Father get better, Mr. Brooke.
    
                                 MR. BROOKE
        I found your gloves.  You little tiny delicate gloves for your little tiny delicate hands.
    
    _He hands her a glove._
                                 MEG
        Oh!  Thank you, Mr. Brooke.  Where's the other one?
    
                                 MR. BROOKE
        Nowhere.  I needed it.  What other glove?  Can I sing you a song in German?
    
                                 MEG
        I don't really speak German…
    
                                 JO
        OH MY GOD, GO AWAY this is supposed to be a book about WOMEN.
    
                                 MEG
        Goodbye, Mr. Brooke.
    
    _Mr. Brooke leaves._
                                 AMY
        Do you want to marry him?
    
                                 MEG
        Maybe?  I don't know.
    
                                 JO
        OH MY GOD HE'S THE WORST
    
                                 MEG
        I'm only sixteen…
    
                                 JO
        I WAS SAYING
    
                                 MEG
        But I mean this is a book about women's lives and women's worlds and that includes being a wife; I have to marry someone and the sooner I do it the less poor our family will be because you won't have to feed me any more and it would be nice to marry somebody rich maybe but Marmee disapproves of all my rich friends' morals and I don't want to disappoint her; I want her to love me, and I want to marry someone who loves me, and so if Mr. Brooke loves me I guess I could marry him.
    
    _Mr. Brooke rushes back on and sweeps her up in
                                   his arms._
                                 MR. BROOKE
        Call me John, Meg.
    
                                 MEG
        Yes, John.
    
                                 MR. BROOKE
        Be happy for us, dear sisters!
    
                                 AMY
        Can I be a flower girl?  Can I wear my hair up at your wedding?  Can I be a grown-up and go to Europe and live an elegant life and not marry a man who wants his wife to be a dove?  Can I be an artist?
    
                              _Laurie runs on and starts throwing flowers. 
                                   Amy throws them too._
    
                                 JO
        Christopher.  Columbus.  Goodnight.
    
                                 _Piano music.  Meg and Mr. Brooke dance.  Jo
                                   tries to leave._
    
                                 LAURIE
        Dance with me, Jo!
    
                                 JO
        No.  Where's Beth, Teddy?  I have to go find her.
    
    _She tries to run away.  Laurie pulls her back._
                                 LAURIE
        Dance with me, Jo!
    
                                 JO
        No.  Where's Beth, Teddy?  What if she's sick? _Awkward pause.  Beth in her little brown hood
                                   comes on._
    
                                 BETH
        I'm not sick, Jo.
    
                                   Beth rushes off.
    
                                 LAURIE
        Let Brooke and Meg be happy, and flirt a little with me, Jo.
    
                                   _Meg and Brooke dance off, with Amy still
                                   throwing flowers._
    
                                 JO
        I don't flirt.
    
                                 LAURIE
        Good.  Flirts are wicked, and men say naughty things about them when they go.
    
                                 JO
        But you just asked me to –
    
                                 LAURIE
        I want to be a gentleman and speak well of womankind, but I have a natural dislike of unfeminine folly.
    
                                 JO
        Like flirting?
    
                                 LAURIE
        Like flirting.
    
                                 JO
        I'm confused.
    
                                 LAURIE
        Don't flirt with me, Jo.
    
                                 JO
        I won't.  MARMEE!
    
                                 LAURIE
        I'll see you soon, Jo.  Maybe all the time?
    
                                 JO
        BYE LAURIE
    
    _Laurie leaves and Marmee comes in._
                                 MARMEE
        What's the matter, dear?
    
                                 JO
        It's vain to say it so I'm really sorry for saying it because it sounds so vain and it's probably not true so I understand if you don't believe me because I'm the tomboy and your fourth-prettiest daughter –
    
                                 _Meg runs on in an apron with jam stains all over
                                   it._
    
                                 MEG
        I thought I could be perfect and then everyone would love me so I tried to be perfect but I couldn't do it and now the men are laughing at me!
    
                                 MARMEE
        Ask the Lamb of God to help you, sweet girl.
    
                                 MEG
        But – the jelly won't gel and they were laughing at me –
    
                                 MARMEE
        Ask the Lord to help you be better at what you do.
    
                                 MEG
        Yes Marmee.
    
                                 MARMEE
        Which is being beautiful and making a happy beautiful home.
    
                                 MEG
        Yes Marmee.
    
    _She goes.  Marmee turns to Jo._
                                 MARMEE
        Sometimes I have feelings, Jo, just like you; angry, unpretty emotions, but I always make sure to pray to our Great Friend, Jesus, about them, so I can make sure I never show them.  What was the vain thing you wanted to tell me?
    
                                 JO
        Marmee, if I went to New York, do you think I could entrust my soul to God, write stories to prove my genius, and not marry Laurie, all at the same time?
    
                                 MARMEE
        New York might be a good place for you to act out your dreams.  Amy is going to Europe to try to be an artist.  I don't mind, as long as you both stay my good girls.
    
                                 JO
        Yes, Marmee.
    
    _Marmee leaves and Jo is alone on stage._
        I want to have genius, and I think I do, until a good man makes me see it's only lurid trash and gently guides me to write instructive uplifting stories suitable for little women who want to have genius and can be led to see how it's okay to want genius and end up writing instructive uplifting stories for little women who want to have genius and there are two burning silences at the heart of this book and one is my genius, is me daring you to say I had no genius that this book has no genius that a Morally Instructive Wholesome book for GIRLS is not a work of genius; Marmee's loving lessons force the patriarchy down our throats at every chapter's end but it's not like Dickens doesn't, really, is it? Mr. Angry little girls should hold their tongues and count to twenty-five.  And he's in the pantheon; his face is on the cover of the Oxford Anthology; he's got genius.  And everybody knows It was the best of times it was the worst of times but a damn lot of people know Christmas won't be Christmas without any presents, and it just so happens that most of them are women, but
    
    _Laurie bursts on, bouncing like a prize fighter._
                                 LAURIE
        JO!
    
                                 JO
        Oh no.
    
                                 LAURIE
        Let's do this, Jo.
    
                                 JO
        Oh no.
    
                                 LAURIE
        Marry me, Jo.
    
                                 JO
        Oh no.
    
                                 LAURIE
        We'll have such good times, Jo.
    
    _Meg runs on with baby vomit all over her jam
                                   stained apron._
                                 MEG
        I thought I could be perfect and then everyone would love me so I tried to be perfect but I couldn't do it and now the men are laughing at me!
    
    _Two babies cry and she runs out again._
                                 JO
        Oh no.
    
                                 LAURIE
        If you don't marry me, everyone will be mad at you.
    
                                 JO
        Oh no.
    
                                 LAURIE
        If you don't marry me, I might do something bad.  And it would be all your fault.
    
                                 JO
        Oh no.
    
                                 LAURIE
        No?
    
                                 JO
        No.
    
                                   _Silence.  Laurie walks off.  Jo breathes out. 
                                   Beth walks on._
    
                                 BETH
        You said, two silences in this book.  I am the other silence.  I have a little brown hood, and no wish, except to be good.  You are a tomboy and Amy is a goose and Meg is a doll, but I am just – loved.  You all love me.  I love you all.  I have a little brown hood, and no future.  I make slippers and sleeves and socks.  You can pick them up and hold them and feel them and use them until they wear out.  This is a book about death.  About how when someone dies, you can remember what they loved and touch the things they had, and you can remember that you love them, but you can't remember them right, them as people, because they will never surprise you again. 
    
                                 JO
        Beth –
    
                                 BETH
        I have never fit in this story because I have always been over, before it began.
    
    _She goes off.  Pause._
                                 JO
        This isn't a book about death.  It is not.  It's not about women's worlds, because there are chapters where I go into smoke-filled offices and make rude editors pay me to write for them, and chapters where Laurie and his grandfather negotiate how much emotion and sympathy they can show each other without upsetting their masculine pride, and chapters about educational philosophy, for goodness's sake; it is not a book about death.  It is not a book about loss.  It is a book about rebellion, and doing the wrong thing, making the wrong choice, and learning better, and then doing the wrong thing again, because you're a human, you're just a person who does things wrong; this is not a book about death; it is not; even if other people want you to be an angel of beauty and the keeper of their consciences, you're just a person, and you make mistake after mistake after mistake and you keep thinking you've improved but then you make another mistake but you KEEP TRYING TO BE BETTER
    
    _Amy comes running on and shoves her, hard._
                                 AMY
        This is a book about never getting what you want.  You or Meg or me or the reader.  Everyone wants you to marry Laurie!  Nobody wants you to marry the bearded German who smokes a pipe and hates fun!  And is FORTY.  You wanted to be a genius but your German professor will look over your shoulder and keep your imagination on a leash so you don't corrupt the young.  Meg wanted to be perfect and loved by everybody, and she's not, no matter how hard she tries; she's the boring one; she's the mom; she's the unwelcome reminder that housework and motherhood are hard, hard work that nobody really appreciates and no one really wants to do!  And no one remembers anything about me except that I slept with a clothespin on my nose and I STOLE LAURIE.  But I wanted to be a genius too!  I wanted to be a great artist!  The height of my aspiration wasn't lower than yours, but it's your book, your _book,_ so there's nothing I can say for myself; I just quietly drop my pencils and my ambitions and marry a man who wanted to marry you.
    
                                   _Pause._
    
                                 JO
        He does love you.
    
                                 AMY
        He does.  But I'm not what he wanted.
    
    _Pause._
                                 JO
        Why don't men read this book?  When they're little?
    
                                 AMY
        I don't know.  Some of them do.
    
                                 JO
        Maybe they don't know how to read it.  Maybe they don't realize that all the stuff about patience and humility and God isn't the real book.  Nobody remembers how much page space that takes up, because it's not the real book.
    
                                 AMY
        Because nobody actually cares about that.  They read to find out what happens to us, and whether we get what we want.  Which, as I said 
    
                                 JO
        we don't.  And we go on living.  And we are relatively happy.  Is that the real lesson?  
    
                                 AMY
        To persevere in the face of disappointment?
    
                                 JO
        To shoulder our little burdens –
    
                                 AMY
        – little – 
    
                                 JO
        – and keep climbing that hill?
    
                                 AMY
        That must be the lesson.  We'll keep living, happily, gratefully, gracefully, even though we don't get what we want.
    
    _Pause._
                                 JO
        That's not the lesson.
    
                                 AMY
        Then what's the real lesson?
    
    _They look at each other._
        Jo, what's the real lesson?
    
    
    
        END OF PLAY.


End file.
